


The Memory Tree

by riverchic1998



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Happy Ending, Holidays, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 06:20:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverchic1998/pseuds/riverchic1998
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For years after her death, they didn’t put up the garland along the stair banister, hang the wreaths on every door, or switch out the soap dispensers in the bathrooms for holiday themed dispensers. All the decorations that made the Stilinski home a massive tribute to the winter holiday were shoved in the closet to collect dust, because each twinkle of lights or burst of bright holly reminded them that she wasn’t there to enjoy it. </p>
<p>But this Christmas was different than previous Christmas’. For once, Stiles wanted to decorate the house. He wanted the over-the-top decorations placed on every available surface. He wanted to pull out all the old Christmas lights and decorate the exterior so much the neighbors would be annoyed by the brightness. He wanted his house to look like Christmas frickin’ <i>exploded inside. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Memory Tree

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jo_anne_storm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jo_anne_storm/gifts), [Slythhearted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slythhearted/gifts).



> Ugh, the feels. THE FEELS. I promise, this has a happy ending. You just have to go through a roller coaster of emotions before you get there. This was a Christmas fic prompt by [Jo_Anne_Storm](http://archiveofourown.org/users/jo_anne_storm/pseuds/jo_anne_storm) and [Slythhearted](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Slythhearted/pseuds/Slythhearted), both of whom are responsible for getting me hooked on Teen Wolf. Feels are my revenge. Hope you enjoy.

Stiles’ mother loved Christmas traditions because Christmas was her favorite holiday.

For years after her death, they didn’t put up the garland along the stair banister, hang the wreaths on every door, or switch out the soap dispensers in the bathrooms for holiday themed dispensers. All the decorations that made the Stilinski home a massive tribute to the winter holiday were shoved in the closet to collect dust, because each twinkle of lights or burst of bright holly reminded them that she wasn’t there to enjoy it. Stiles couldn’t even bear the traditional holiday smells, such as cinnamon or sugar cookie, without feeling an ache in his chest.

For three years, neither Stiles nor his dad wanted to look at a Christmas tree, let alone decorate one, but they did.

The tree was the only decoration they put up those first years after her death, and Stiles was pretty sure the tree was put up solely as a place to put presents on Christmas Eve. The tree was his mother’s pride and joy of all their decorations and it was extremely unique. No single ornament was alike. His mother called it their memory tree.

Up until the year of her death, she would collect ornaments that related to major milestones that had happened to the family through the years. The tradition had started before Stiles was even born; some of his favorite ornaments were the wedding and anniversary ornaments. But those were quickly outnumbered when Stiles came along. Even into his teen years, his mother insisted on placing the small Precious Moments ornaments that she bought every year until he was ten on the tree.

When his dad made sheriff, his mom searched for ages for the perfect sheriff’s badge ornament.

When Stiles fell out of the tree in the backyard and had to get his first stitches, an over-the-top Band-Aid ornament was placed on the tree.

When the old washing machine that was twice as old as Stiles finally died and they bought a new one, she made sure the washing machine ornament—which Stiles couldn’t believe actually _existed_ —was on the very front of the tree that year.

When Stiles was diagnosed with ADHD, she found an ornament that made him laugh to put on the tree. At first, Stiles didn’t want that to ruin the Christmas tree, until his mother pulled him aside and said that this was a memory tree and memories didn’t ruin a family, but helped a family grow, good or bad. Memories were meant to be shared and remembered.

A week later, his dad put up a large tooth ornament as a dedication to his mother’s dental surgery she had earlier in the year that she had complained about, cheekily reminding her that the week of recovery afterwards was definitely a memory that the family would remember. They all laughed.

Soon the ornaments grew too many and his dad joked about getting another tree since they were running out of room. The older ornaments were placed on the back of the tree and wouldn’t be seen, but his mother insisted on at least getting them up. Sometimes, Stiles wandered to the back of the tree, squeezing in between the branches and the wall, just so he could look over all the memories the family had gathered over the years, pulling his mother with him so he could point to ornaments and have her explain the meaning behind each.

The year his mother died, no new ornaments were placed on the tree. In fact, only half of them actually made it out of the box before Stiles gave up and shoved the rest behind the couch. He ended up only placing most of his own ornaments up because seeing the ornaments that held pictures of his mother or dates of trips she took with dad brought tears to his eyes. The pain was too raw.

Over the next few years, no new ornaments went up, but Stiles managed to get the tree completely decorated. He felt physically and emotionally exhausted afterwards, but his dad always gave him a hug and placed the angel on the top for him, since he was too short and even with the step-ladder he used to reach the very top of the tree, he couldn’t get the angel to sit on quite right.

That was always his mother’s job anyway.

But this Christmas was different than previous Christmas’. For once, Stiles _wanted_ to decorate the house. He wanted the over-the-top decorations placed on every available surface. He wanted to pull out all the old Christmas lights and decorate the exterior so much the neighbors would be annoyed by the brightness. He wanted his house to look like Christmas frickin’ _exploded inside_.

Of course, even though he wanted it didn’t mean that it didn’t still hurt. Scott understood how painful it was around the holidays, but no one else knew the direct link between his mother and Christmas. In a way, that helped him bark orders when everyone came over one weekend to pull out boxes and boxes of decorations from storage.

Derek had flat out refused to help, but Stiles knew that the memory of losing Laura was still too close. Stiles had three years to cope with the loss of his mother, but Derek needed more time. For once, Stiles didn’t press the issue and let Derek know that he could come over whenever he felt like it.

Isaac, Erica, and Allison were the most excited when they saw the sheer amount of Christmas things he had stored away. Stiles knew that the Laheys weren’t big into Christmas after the death of two family members and the Reyes family didn’t put up decorations with lights because the blinking could cause Erica to have seizures. He was surprised that Allison was so excited until she explained that due to her family’s frequent moving, they never bothered with lots of decorations that would only be good a month out of the year.

Scott, Lydia, Jackson, and Boyd weren’t as crazy over Christmas as the rest of them, but they still helped. Well, Scott, Jackson, and Boyd helped lift and hold decorations in place while Lydia directed them alongside Stiles. But he was grateful that she didn’t immediately start issuing demands without making sure Stiles was okay with placements and arrangements.

His dad just shook his head and stepped over boxes, making lunch and dinner for the group so Stiles could keep decorating and let others know where to place things.

Even with all the help, decorating took the full weekend. The only thing left was to decorate the tree, but Stiles insisted on doing that himself after everyone left. They would be able to see the tree when they came over for a movie night the next weekend, but Stiles didn’t want an audience when he pulled out each ornament and ran the corresponding memory through his mind. That was just for him.

This year, Stiles made a list of all the major events that happened to his dad in the years passed because he was going to add new ornaments. He found a blue jeep on eBay that didn’t exactly match his, but the resemblance was still close. He also purchased a lacrosse stick because he made first line and a fake heart because he was going to guilt-trip his dad as much as he could into eating healthy.

The hardest purchase he made was a pink cancer ribbon ornament. Stiles clenched his jaw when he pressed the order button, but his mother’s words that memories, good or bad, needed to be remembered and shared echoed in his mind.

The pink ribbon ornament was the last one he bought and was the last to go up on the tree, just a week before Christmas. He placed it in between his dad’s sheriff badge ornament and the macaroni angel he made in school when he was six. Even if half the dried pasta had fallen off and cracked, his mother always insisted on placing it on the tree. 

He must have stared at the tree for over an hour, carefully going over every ornament placed on the branches, before his dad came home. He walked over and placed his hand on Stiles’ shoulder, tightening his grip when he saw the newest addition to the tree.

“I’m proud of you, Stiles,” he said softly, his voice tight with emotion. Stiles just nodded, too emotional himself to answer.

His dad walked to the side and plugged in the lights. The moveable ornaments attached to the strand started up, various noises and musical pieces breaking the silence. Stiles smiled, glad he decided to put them up this year.

“I’ll get started on dinner,” he said, clearing his throat and taking a step away from the tree, before his dad’s voice stopped him.

“What’s this?” he asked, pointing to another new ornament that came in the day before the pink ribbon ornament.

It was a howling wolf with a large full moon arranged behind it. Stiles’ smile grew. “It’s a wolf.” At his dad’s exasperated look, he shrugged. “I couldn’t find a mountain lion.”

“A mountain li—”, he cut himself off with a sigh. “Really, Stiles?”

“Hey, it’s a pretty big memory,” Stiles replied, holding his hands up and backing away towards the kitchen. “You’re lucky I didn’t buy, like, _four of them_.”

His dad scoffed and walked to the stairs. “And don’t think I didn’t see that heart on there, either,” he called. “We better have something that doesn’t involve green stuff for dinner!”

Stiles chuckled and thought about the green bean casserole he made earlier that was sitting in the fridge before glancing one more time at the tree in the corner of the living room. His mother was right; memories were meant to be shared and remembered, good or bad. And if his the past year was anything to go by, he was definitely going to need another tree.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't take the credit for the idea of a memory tree, since it's something my own mother has been doing for over 30 years. We even have the washing machine ornament. 
> 
> There might be a sequel to this coming, if I have time to start the fic. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
